


Back to the Start

by Vexed_Wench



Series: Back to the Start [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Break Up, F/M, Jessica Moore Lives, POV Dean Winchester, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:20:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22891648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexed_Wench/pseuds/Vexed_Wench
Summary: Dean finds himself before mysterious beings that tell him not everyone is happy about events of the season 14 finale. They offer Dean a chance to go back to the night he broke into Sam's apartment and make things right.Wincest coming in future installments.
Relationships: Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Series: Back to the Start [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645462
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58
Collections: Dean Winchester Big Bang 2020





	Back to the Start

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Back to the Start (A Dean Winchester Big Bang Story - ART POST)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22887676) by [TxDorA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TxDorA/pseuds/TxDorA). 



> I was lucky to be claimed by TxDorA for art. Be sure to pop over to the linked post and leave some love as well.

[ ](https://imgur.com/DlPdgtY)

Dean wasn't sure what happened; one minute he was with Sam and Cas trying not to die and the next he was sitting in his Baby. It only took a moment to quickly take stock of the current condition. He was able to wiggle his fingers and toes. That meant his limbs were still attached and working. There wasn’t any blood seeping into his clothes. The only thing he could find physically wrong was a bitch of a headache.

His head ached worse than when he spent the weekend drinking the no-name gin he'd found in one of the flophouses he and Sam had squatted in by themselves. He'd been drinking beer for a while and didn't think the gin would be that different. The next morning, he learned how different they were. His stomach still churned to this day when he smelled cheap gin.

"I don't know what saved us Sammy, but I do know that we're going to wind up paying for it later. That means we'll live to fight another day, huh?" Dean opened his eyes for the first time and realized that Sam wasn't there.

"Dean, we need to talk," Billie appeared in the seat next to him.

"Look, no offense, but I don't have the energy to deal with your crap," he needed to find Sam. The last thing he wanted was to find out Sammy was still in the cemetery with the damn ghouls while he was trapped in the car with Death.

"I promise, Sam is fine. He will remain that way until we're done," She promised him.

"So, he’s fine as long as you get your way?" Dean tried his hardest not to rip the door open and run to where he thought Sam was.

"We don't have much time. You need to listen to me. I need you to understand that not every being is happy with what happened here. We need your help to make things right again," was all the warning he got before he found himself standing near Billie in a cold dark room. 

"I wanted those few moments to prepare you. I'll just have to trust you not to make it worse. Whatever you do, be honest and respectful. Do not lie to them or embellish your answers. For the sake of humanity, do not try to be cute," She whispered and shoved him forward.

He'd never felt as alone as he did then. He stood in the pitch dark straining to hear any noise that would give him an idea about where he was. 

‘ _Dean Winchester, you stand before us to give testimony of your own free will?_ ’ the words weren't spoken aloud. It felt like the words were being whispered directly into his head. He was blinded by a bright spotlight that illuminated a very small area around him.

He wanted to make a smartass comment about how nothing he'd ever done had been for his own free will. Chuck's latest betrayal was only moments ago. Billie's warning was also rumbling around his head. He wasn't one of her biggest fans, but she also never lied to him.

"I thought I had some choice over my life. I now know I was wrong. Chuck has been in control of all of our lives," Dean tried to keep his voice steady and calm.

_’Do you feel he has brought unwarranted consequences by interfering with your life?’_

"I'm not sure I understand what you want to know." Dean didn't want to say the wrong thing and be stuck wherever he was for all eternity. He didn't even want to think about what would happen to Sam if he pissed the weird voice off.

‘ _Do you think you could've made the world a better place without his interference?’_

"I would like to think that it would've happened. Our family's driving force was finding what killed our Mom. If we didn't have to do that, I doubt we would've been hunters. I bet Dad and I would've had the best garage in Lawrence. Sam would be a great lawyer. He would be one of those do-gooder ones that worked at an expensive firm that charged a butt-ton to cover all his pro bono cases. I’m sure we would've done our best to make the world a better place. I don't know how that balances against the people we saved while hunting," Dean hoped it was the right answer. 

While he was pondering what kind of monster or god was asking the questions, the spotlight went off and left him alone in the dark. It It was unnerving after a few moments. He wished he had someone standing beside him. He would've even welcomed Billie.

‘ _We have made our decision. You have shown great bravery and skill. You should be rewarded and not punished for the things that were forced upon you. We will grant you one chance to make things right. This will be your last chance. Be careful what you change you make. We will not be involved after this._ ’ The lights went dark once more.

[ ](https://imgur.com/AmHaEt6)

The next thing he knew, he was lying flat on his back and someone was sitting on his chest.

"Dean?" Dean would know that voice anywhere even if it was a hell of a lot younger than he was used to hearing.

"Who else would be in your place in the middle of the night?" Dean asked as he shoved Sam off of him. He needed a minute to figure out what was going on. He could still remember everything that had happened in their lives, as well as the creepy bodiless voice's warning.

He had to think of a new plan and it had to be better than the last one.

"Sam?"Jessica was just as pretty as Dean remembered.

"Jess, this is Dean," Sam gestured towards him.

Dean tried his best to smile in an over flirty way as he did back then. It'd been a while since he was that guy. He hated to admit it, even to himself.

"I hate to bust in like this, but I need to borrow your boyfriend," he said with a wink.

Just like last time Sam swore whatever he had to say he could say in front of Jessica. It was surprising since he hadn't told Jess about his past.

"It has come to our attention that one of our old associates has decided to come out of _retirement._ We have reason to believe that he will be coming this way. Now that I've had a look at your girl, I think you should be worried," Dean hoped he was making the right choice by telling Sam as much as he was. He wished he had a rule book covering what he should and should not tell Sam.

"What? Who retires from the family business? You know as well as I do that the only you get out is when you die," Sam crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah well, this one is special," Dean stared him down. 

"Where is Dad? If he's worried, why didn't he come?" Sam asked him.

"That would be the other reason for my visit. Dad’s been on a hunting trip. I've called all his numbers and he didn't answer any of them. Then I got a weird message from him. I think he might be in real trouble this time," Dean remembered that it was in Jericho they got their hands on John's journal. He knew the information backward and forwards, but it would come in handy to have along the way. Unless he wanted to explain to Sam how he knew what was going to happen before it did. He didn't think he could pretend to be a convincing psychic.

"I'm still waiting to hear about why I'm in danger," Jessica reminded them as she sat on the couch.

"How much do you know about your boyfriend's family?" Dean asked.

"She knows enough to know my brother has a drinking problem and not to listen to whatever crazy shit falls out of his mouth," Sam smirked at him.

"Is that so?" Dean gave him an identical grin back.

"Why else would you be breaking into our place in the middle of the night? Seriously, if it were a legit visit you would've called first," he'd forgotten what a smug bastard Sam was at that age. 

"Maybe I was worried if I called, you wouldn't answer? I remember when you left for school, it was the worst fight our family had ever had. You swore you were done with me and Dad. You've kept your word and haven't contacted either one of us. You never once called to let me know you made it here safely. You never bothered to send any contact info. You just cut us out of your life and never looked back," Dean decided two could play at that game.

"Sam, is that true?" Jessica asked. 

"Dad told me if I left, to stay gone," Sam sounded angry.

"He was just worried about you. You have to admit, you hit him out of the blue with college. There were other ways to get him used to the idea," Dean knew he was right about that. It had taken him years to figure out how to get their dad to say yes to things he normally wouldn't.

"If he sent you a message, then don't you have an idea about where he is?" Jessica wondered.

Dean was developing a new respect for her.

"I know he was in Jericho when he called. I haven't been able to get in touch with him since then," Dean tried to sound worried.

"Jericho isn't that far from here. Why don't you both go down there and look for him? Check out the hospital and maybe the sheriff, " She suggested.

"It's not far, but I don't know how long this will take," Dean explained. He was slowly working out the next step in his plan. He knew it would take longer than a quick turn around to Jericho and back.

"As long as you're back by Monday, I don't see a problem," Jessica told him. Dean did a few quick calculations in his head and thought he might be able to pull this off after all. He just wasn't going to like how it had to happen.

"I'll go pack a bag," Sam said and gave Dean a look that clearly said you better behave yourself.

"This is a nice place," Dean tried his hand at small talk. From what he'd seen it was a very cozy little home.

"We've been here a few months," Sam told him as he walked back in the room with his backpack.

"That's all you're bringing?" Dean wondered what he could've shoved in the bag that fast.

"All I had to grab was clothes. I'm sure if I need anything else I can borrow yours," Sam shrugged.

Dean couldn't argue. They always shared basic supplies and weapons if needed.

He nodded to Jessica and slipped out the door to wait for Sammy in the car. He wondered if he was doing the right thing. He doubted that Sam would believe him, even if he came up with a believable story about what had happened.

"You're acting weird," Sam accused, as he sat down.

"Your face is weird," Dean replied without a thought.

Dean looked for the nearest burger joint so they could grab a quick breakfast. He couldn't remember when he last ate. He was sure they had something to eat before they faced Chuck in the cemetery. That felt like a lifetime ago.

He wanted to find a diner and get a double order of steak and eggs but would settle for a sack of breakfast sandwiches.

"You hungry?" he asked Sam as he pulled into the first drive-through he found.

Sam grunted and turned to lay his head against the window.

"Why yes, Dean, I would love breakfast. I'll take triple bacon with extra sausage muffin with not a veggie to be found. I would appreciate an extra-large black coffee that's strong enough to eat the paint off of your Baby," Dean did an awful impersonation of him as he pulled up to the order window. 

He quickly scanned the menu and ordered himself a couple of bacon, egg, and cheese English muffins with extra bacon and sausage. He ordered Sam the healthiest option he could find as well as a coffee for each of them.

Sam remained quiet even as Dean shoved his bag at him.

"Something wrong with it?" Dean asked him.

"How'd you know that I wanted this and not what you have?" Sam asked. Dean drove around to the back of the restaurant looking for a parking spot that was away from everything. 

"Did we just meet? You've been trying to get me to eat better by example since you were nine and the guy that lived below us had a heart attack and died. His sister cleared out his place and she lectured us about eating ourselves into an early grave," Dean reminded him.

"I forgot about that. Didn't I throw all junk food in the house down the garbage chute? It was right after she went into the gory details about his surgery and death?" Sam laughed as he bit into his egg white sandwich.

"You can laugh now, it sure as Hell wasn't funny then. I had to rush down to the dumpster and find all the food you trashed or we would've starved. That was all we had until I could think of a way to make more cash," Dean rooted around in the bag for his second sandwich.

"I didn't know that," Sam said softly.

"Why would you know that? You were a little kid. You shouldn't have had to worry about shit like grocery money," Dean hoped to change the subject. The last thing he wanted was to fight about their childhood.

"Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me everything?" Sam asked.

"It's not like that," Dean began to explain.

"Why am I not surprised? Even after all this time, you're still keeping me out of the fucking loop," Sam spat.

Dean took a long swallow of his coffee hoping to get this right. He doubted Sam, this Sam, would believe his story. Who would think time travel would turn out to be real, let alone something they did.

"It's not like you’re thinking. I have information that Dad wouldn't believe, but I know it's true. I need your help. I was just on a hunt in New Orleans and I ran across a demon," Dean began to explain.

"Fuck, are you okay? Why didn't you tell me you tangled with a demon?" Sam reached over and grabbed Dean's shoulder.

Dean had forgotten how little interaction they'd had with demons when they were this age. He doubted either of them would have the skills to deal with a truly pissed of demon at this point. The closest they came across was the on in the plane and it gave up far to easy.

"I'm fine. I managed to get away without too much trouble. He did have a lot to tell me before we parted ways," Dean told him.

"Demons lie we both know that. You can't trust anything they tell you," Sam rolled his eyes.

"If they think the truth will hurt you more, they are always more than happy to tell you," Dean told him.

"I don't remember hearing that before," Sam mumbled.

"You've been out for a while. Dad and I have learned a few things," Dean explained.

"Okay, so demons apparently tell the truth if it hurts more. I'm guessing you ran into a chatty one?" Sam sounded as if he wanted to laugh at the idea.

"Yeah, I'm not sure where he would fall in the pecking order of Hell. He went on and on about how it was sad that Dad had been living on nothing but bottled up rage and booze for years. That our meat suits could only take that for so long before they explode all over the damned place. I told him to shut his damned mouth, that he didn't know what our Dad was made of, if he thought like that. He said that it didn't matter that they had a plan; a grand plan to pull the next generation into the fight, even after he ran away. How it was going to be a glorious day in Hell when Sammy's girlfriend died screaming on the ceiling just like dear old Mommy did," Dean tried his best to sound shocked and outraged over a conversation he'd never had.

"Are you kidding me? Why the hell are we sitting here eating crappy fast food when Jess is in trouble? We have to turn back and save her," Sam started to panic.

"I know we do and we will. Do you have a gun that can kill a demon? I mean a real honest to fucking God demon straight from Hell? I don't have one on me," Dean reminded himself not to slip up and bring up that they could exercise the demon out of her. He needed to take care of that yellow-eyed bastard once and for all.

"You know where to get one of these special guns?" Sam quietly asked.

"Daniel Elkins, he's a hunter that lives in Colorado. He has a gun made by Samuel Colt himself. Rumour has it, you can kill anything supernatural with it with one bullet. If we get out there and convince him that we need to borrow it, we may, and I stress may, be able to get there and back in time to save Jess and avenge Mom at the same time," Dean told him.

"You've never met him, have you? We're rushing off to Colorado on a hunch? I don't like the odds," Sam argued.

"I know. If I could think of another way, I would. The last thing I want to do is fly," Dean mumbled as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the airport.

They were both lost in their thoughts as Dean drove.

Dean hated to leave his girl in the airport parking lot and gave her one last reassuring pat as they walked towards the terminal. 

He bought their tickets with one of the few credit cards he had that would cover the cost and had a matching I.D. 

Before he could open his mouth, Sam handed his own official California driver's license over to the agent.

They were lucky there was a flight leaving within half an hour. They had just enough time to check-in and find their seats before the plane was ready to take off. Dean was happy that the flight didn't seem to be popular. There were a few empty seats. They were lucky enough to have their row to themselves.

The seat made him long for his seat in his Baby. He couldn't find a comfortable spot no matter how hard he tried. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried quietly humming to himself.

"Metallica?" Sam laughed beside him.

"Shut up. People who are afraid of clowns don't get to say shit about anyone else's phobia," Dean poked him in the ribs just before the light crew began their incase of emergency instructions.

"I wonder why we didn't do this more when we were little? It would've been a lot easier for Dad to dump us off at an airport and have Uncle Bobby or Pastor Jim pick us up," Sam wondered aloud.

"Dad did think about it once. He had to be a time-sensitive job and Bobby's place was out of the way. He thought that sticking us on a bus alone would raise a red flag with someone. That was when he decided that it would be better for us to fly," Dean told him.

"What changed his mind?"

"I reminded him that you were an unstoppable little chatterbox with no filter. The only way I could be sure you wouldn't blab something stupid would be if we drugged you up with baby Benadryl," Dean laughed.

"Hey, I was not," Sam protested.

"Have you conveniently forgotten how many times we ran out of places because Dad was worried about someone calling Children's Services on us because of something you said," Dean gave him the same look he'd give Sam when he stepped out of line when they were younger.

"I wasn't that bad, was I?" Sam asked.

"You just had a habit of putting a bad twist on things. You couldn't understand why eating dinner from the motel vending machine was bad. Why the babysitter was concerned that we missed a month of school because Daddy was busy and not around a lot," Dean explained.

"Oh, I guess I did make it more difficult," Sam mumbled and turned towards the window.

Dean wanted to say something to make him feel better. At this point in their relationship, they were still trying to find their new boundaries. 

"Tell me about the demon?" Sam whispered.

"I found out old Yellow Eyes has a proper demonic name. He's Azazel. Azazel wants to rule the world and the underworld. He has a truly horrible plan. I will never admit this again, but the damn plan has merit. I think he will be able to pull it off. That is something neither one of us wants," Dean tried to think about his memories of Sammy lying dead in his arms as he carried him away from that last battle out of his mind.

"That's something I still don't get. Why does his grand plan include killing Jess? What could she have to do with him? Is it just one demon or a group? If it is a group, is he the highest-ranking one? Does he have a ton of minions? Have they all been watching me? Why? What is so special about me?" Sam sounded like he was on the verge of some kind of panic attack.

"Damn, all this time and you still think the sun shines out of your ass huh?" Dean smirked.

"If you think I am entitled, you can take it up with the Jerk who raised me to think that way," Sam poked him in the ribs.

"Bitch," Dean hissed and this time Sam laughed and smiled at him.

Dean leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He couldn't remember when he'd slept last and decided a quick nap would be helpful. The next thing he knew Sam was poking his shoulder as people exited the plane.

"Do you know where we're going," Sam asked him as they followed the crowd."I don't like that we still don't have a plan, are we going to show up with some crazy story like we used to?"

"We always got the job done," Dean reminded him.

He was saved from hearing whatever else Sam had to say when spotted a small car rental kiosk.

Twenty minutes later, he was behind the wheel of a nondescript four-door blue doll-sized car. He wished he had been able to drive out here. It felt wrong to be driving this little thing around town. It looked like something that belonged in Barbie's dream garage. Did Barbie even have a dream garage? If not, she should, he thought because it was pretty damn sexist to think a girl couldn't wield a wrench.

"Do I even want to know?" Sam asked from the passenger seat.

"Know?"

"You're grinning like a manic toddler on a sugar high?" Sam smirked.

"Nevermind, "Dean waved off any other questions.

"I think you should know that I found out our dad is pretty famous in the hunting world," Dean decided to broach the touchy subject.

"Really? Why?" Sam asked him.

"You would think for being so damn awesome, but you'd be wrong. Everyone agrees he gets the job done, but not everyone likes how he does it," Dean tried not to think about Ellen and what a huge apology he owed her. He was an ass when she tried to explain what had happened between his dad and Bill.

"So are we keeping Dad out of this? Speaking of him, are you going to at least call him? If nothing else, we can leave a message. Do you think he'll ever forgive us if we take the demon down without him?" Sam had valid questions sadly Dean didn't have the answers.

"I think we'll play this visit by ear. I didn't think about calling Dad," Dean admitted. He still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that everyone they lost should be alive and well including their father.

"Really a bar? I can't believe you couldn't do this without a drink?" Sam glared at him as he pulled into the parking lot.

"I figured if he's anything like the rest of us, he's a regular. Why not stop and find out if he's here and if not how to find him. Unless you want to spend all of our time hunting him down?" Dean snapped as he walked off towards the bar.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just thought..." Sam stammered as he caught up with him.

"You thought I was going to fuck this up. Seriously Sam why would I have come to warn you, if I wasn't going to fix it?" Dean walked over to the bar. 

He ordered them each a beer and tried to remind himself that he shouldn't be mad at Sam for something he had no control over. He hated time-travel more and more with each passing moment.

He noticed someone writing in a journal at the end of the bar. He would bet his last dollar he was Daniel Elkins. 

He ordered a shot for both of them and nodded to Sam as he made his way down to the corner.

"Daniel Elkins?" Dean asked as he sat in the stool next to him.

"Maybe," Daniel shrugged and went back to his journal.

"I was hoping you were him because my brother and I need his help," Dean started to explain.

"Look kid, whatever you need, I don't do anymore."

"You're the only one that can help. You don't really have to do anything," Dean tried to deal with him.

"That means you want the Colt. I don't even know you. Why would I allow you to take it?" Elkins didn't sound happy or like he was going to give in.

"Introductions, we can do. I'm Dean and this is my little brother Sam," Dean smiled at him.

"That doesn't tell me anything," Daniel complained as he drank the shot Dean had bought him.

"I don't know if you know our Dad or not. If you do, you know our story. We are Dean and Sam Winchester," Sam began to softly explain. Dean thought he would hang back and see where it went. He knew from a lifetime of experiences that Sam would be seen as the sweet and charming one of them. People just loved to help him when they could.

"You’re John's boys?" Elkins asked.

"Yes sir, we are. We have reason to believe here is going to be an attack on my girlfriend. One that is supposed to be just like the one that killed our Mom. No matter what you think of our Dad or what you think you know about us, she doesn't deserve that. No one should die a horrible death like that. That's why we came to see you. There isn't enough time to research another way to kill a demon. If you know of one that will work, we'll take your advice and leave you alone. If not, we would love your help," Sam pleaded with him. Dean had forgotten how endearing Sam was at this age. He was ready to hand him over anything he needed. He just hoped Elkins would be as easily swayed.

"You have a picture?" Elkins asked as he signaled for another shot.

"Excuse me?" Sam sounded confused.

"Your girl, you have a picture of her?" he asked.

"Why?" Dean asked him.

"How do I know your story is true? For all, I know you two concocted some tale about a girl in danger to trick me into handing the Colt over," Elkins argued.

"Oh, I have a couple in my wallet," Sam pulled his wallet out from his pocket.

"I like this one best. Jess and I had just signed the lease on our apartment," Sam handed the photo over.

"She looks happy." 

"She was, I mean she is happy. Our place may not be as big as some of our friends’ but it is big enough for us. You should have seen her when we were shopping for basic things. We argued over so many things. I'm surprised she didn't leave me," Sam smiled at the memory.

"That much fun?" Elkins grinned.

"Yeah, she couldn't understand why I was so against buying nice things from the thrift shop then newer things that were cheaper quality,"

"I bet that wasn't an easy fight to win."

"I wanted dishes that no one had eaten off. Towels that strangers hadn't used to dry their asses. Cheaper and never used sounded better to me," Sam explained.

Dean felt guilty that Sam was clearly still upset about their childhood. That was the only reason he could think of why Sam would settle for cheap crap over nicer stuff, if given the choice. He'd always complained that he didn't want a hunter's life. He had to make things right for Sam.

"I believe you. Either you are the best actor that ever lived or she is your girl," Elkins decided.

Dean was relieved. He hated to think about what would happen if this hadn't worked.

Daniel agreed to bring the colt back to them. Dean thought he didn't trust them to know where he lived and he really couldn't blame him. He remembered when they first had the Colt he’d been worried something would try to steal it from them. It had taken him a while to relax and trust it would be safe with them.

It wasn't long before Elkins walked back into the bar and stood behind the boys' barstools. "Here." He handed Sam a locked box and a key. "I'm trusting you with this,"

"Thank you," Sam sounded as grateful as Dean felt.

Dean dropped a few bills on the bar to cover what they owed on their tab as well as a generous tip before pulling Sam towards the door.

"What now?" Sam asked him after they were in the car.

"We know it will all happen tomorrow. I am thinking we should go back and make sure your place is battle-ready," Dean suggested.

"Do you think we stand a chance?" Sam asked him.

"We're the Winchesters," Dean turned and grinned at him.

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Sam laughed.

"Well, yeah. We kick ass all the time," Dean told him and turned the radio up to an appropriate annoy the crap out of Sammy level. 

The ride back to the airport was as uneventful as the earlier one had been.

They made a stop to buy a small suitcase to stash the Colt's box in. They each tossed in a couple of flannels and jeans so it wouldn't arise suspicion. 

They quickly checked in and found their seats.

Dean realized he must've been more tired then he’d thought because the next thing he knew, Sam was shaking him awake. It wasn't long before he was back behind the wheel of Baby on the road back to Sam's place.

Dean was surprised to find Jessica still at the apartment. She was tougher then he'd given her credit for last time.

He tried not to stare as she flung herself into Sam's arms for his welcome home kiss. He couldn't remember the last time anyone was that happy to see him. Sam had been every time one of them had come back from the dead, but he doubted that counted.

"Hey Dean, what did you decide to do about Dad?" Sam asked him as he walked towards the kitchen.

"What do you think?" Dean asked him.

"I think you should call and leave a message so that way he can't be mad forever," Sam called back.

"That's not a bad idea," Dean agreed.

He'd been trying to figure out if they'd ever figured out exactly where he was at this time. If only he could remember. Even better, he thought, if they could just tap into their Dad's thoughts and just know where he was hiding. He was still annoyed that he was choosing to hide instead of telling them what was going on. How much faith did he have in their hunting abilities?

"I ordered pizza. I hope that's okay," Sam told him as he sat next to him on the couch. 

"Sure, you know me, I’m easy," Dean winked.

Jessica followed into the room a moment later with a beer for each of them. "I wish you knew more about what was going to happen. Too bad there isn't a Miss Cleo around when you need one," she giggled.

"Who?" Dean and Sam asked together.

“She used to have commercials on all the time. I would bet she was the most famous TV psychic of all time,” she explained.

"I wish that was a real thing, but in all the years we've been dealing with the freaky shit we've never met one that was legit," Sam explained.

Dean wanted to slap himself. How could he have been this stupid? He spent months teasing Sam about his powers. If they could tap into them now, that might just stand a chance at finding Dad.

"I've run across a couple that were the real deal," Dean told them. He neglected to admit most of them were the ones in the battle royale for their lives. 

"No way! Let me guess she had more boobs then bikini top on a beach somewhere. That or a girl offered to read your palm and a little extra," Sam laughed.

"Laugh it up Big Man but I'm telling you the truth," he just had to figure out how to get Sam's third eye or chakra or whatever to get with the damn program.

"My granny used to say she had 'the gift'. She would dream about things and they would happen. Sometimes, she just knew where to find whatever you were stressed over losing," Jessica looked at Sam like she dared him to say anything against her granny.

"That would be awesome. I wish you could do that, Sam," Dean meant it. The ESP bullshit was freaky, but after everything they'd been through it was the least freaky and belatedly, he realized it had the most potential to help them.

"You should try. It would be neat if it worked," Jessica smiled at him. 

"I wouldn't even know how to go about that," Sam mumbled.

"If every sleepover I ever had when I was younger taught me anything it's that you need something of his and to concentrate on him," Jessica sounded like she was enjoying herself.

"Do you have anything of his?" Sam didn't sound like he was enjoying himself. That made it more fun for Dean who made a big show over thinking about the question.

"I have a jacket. Do you think that will work?" Dean started to take it off so he could hand it over.

"Maybe but I wish you had something that was just his. You stole that from him so many years ago, I’m not sure if you can ever call it Dad's anymore." Sam reached for the old leather jacket.

"You know how it is when we're on the road. Damn near everything is commingled,"

"That is one thing I don't miss about hunting. I like having a permanent roof over my head," Sam rubbed the collar of the jacket as he spoke.

"You guys never had a real house?" Jessica asked.

"Sure we did. It was a great house. We had our own rooms and I had a playroom for all my toys. We had a backyard that had real grass. The kind you could just run full tilt in and not worry about stepping on things that would hurt or kill you," Dean still had fond, if brief, memories of his life before their mom was killed.

"That sounds lovely. What happened?" Jessica asked him.

"When our mom died, the fire didn't contain itself to Sammy's room. Dad shoved Sammy in my arms and told me to take him and run. Dad stayed behind until the last minute to try to save her," He still hated to think about what could've happened if he'd dropped Sam down the stairs.

"Wait, you got me out? How did you even manage that? I must've been half your size and I'm pretty sure the house had stairs. How did you not fall and kill us both? What the hell was he thinking?" Sam sounded like he was amazed and still pissed. Dean knew that tone well. He'd been the cause of through most of Sam's teens.

"Just be glad I didn't drop you. Can we please get back to you trying to channel Dad?" Dean pointed to his jacket.

"I can't believe I am doing this," Sam softly complained.

"If it helps, that would be awesome," Dean reminded him.

"Why do I feel like I am setting myself up for a lifetime of stupid jokes from you?" he glared at Dean.

"Hey, my jokes aren't stupid," Dean smirked. He was saved from Sam's snappy comeback when the pizza arrived.

They each picked a slice. The beer was going down much easier for all of them.

"Hey Dean, if I did get an idea, do you think it would be helpful?" he sounded like he used to when he was scared of something in the middle of the night and wanted to make sure Dean was still on big brother ass-kicking duty. He never could get it through Sam's head that was a job he never got time off from.

"What did you come up with?" Dean hoped it was something good. 

"Why would Dad be in Missouri?" he asked.

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore and wished they'd stopped and grabbed the journal before they got the Colt. If they had, he might’ve thought of her as well.

"What does the state of Missouri have to do with anything?" Jessica wondered.

"It's not a state. I forgot all about her. One night after you'd run...er left for school, Dad and I got stinking drunk. I mean pink elephants on parade drunk. We were talking about hunting and all the fuck-ups we'd had over the years. It started with the funny ones. As the night wore on and the whiskey started flowing a little freer, then it should've got more serious. You know how he keeps everything from us. I figured as long as he was answering questions I would ask as many as I could. The one that matters, for now, was who gave him the best advice and help when Mom died," Dean went to grab a beer so he could have a moment to compose himself. The years Sam was at school were some of the worst ones Dean'd had.  
Dean shook his head to clear his thoughts and realized the conversation had been ongoing.

"...family you could turn to. There must've been someone. It couldn't have just been the three of you after that. Your poor Dad grief-stricken with two small children. That is just tragic," Jessica sounded surprised.

"Yeah, it was just the three of us. Dad spent a couple of days in shock and then he got mad. After that, he was determined to find whatever it was that killed Mom. He said everyone thought he was crazy. Hell, he thought he was going crazy. People don't get pinned to the ceiling of a burning room without a maniac there to make it happen. He heard about Missouri Moseley. She's a real deal psychic. She told Dad more about what's out there than anyone else," Dean told them.

"I know you're both serious but I still find it hard to believe. Yesterday things like demons were just in the bible and horror movies and now you're telling me they are real." Jessica admitted.

"I hate to break it to you but not just demons, there is a ton of creepy shit that is real," Dean told her.

"If he felt comfortable enough to Missouri r back then, maybe she knows where he is now," Jessica grabbed her purse and began to dig around in it.

"That would be in Kansas right?" She asked.

"Yeah, Lawrence," Dean wondered what she was thinking.

"Someone with her skills and her line of work should have an official listed number. Your Dad might have asked her to dodge your calls, but he wouldn't know about me," She explained as she quickly dialed information and wrote down Missouri's number.

"That would be the problem; they don't know you. It was a good thought. I'll just have to call and plead my case to her," Dean reached out for the number.

He dialed the number before he could change his mind.

"Missouri, this is Dean, Dean Winchester. I'm hoping you can help me," He started to speak when she cut him off.

"You're looking for your Daddy," she sounded just like he remembered. He hoped she would be able to have a longer life than she had before.

"Yes, Ma'am. I have reason to believe that he is either there with you or you know how to find him. I am not asking you to tell me either thing but if you could just give him a message for me? Tell him we know where to find the demon and we have a way to kill it once and for all. I am at Sammy's at Stanford and if he can get here soon, he might just make it in time to see it die," he explained before giving her Sammy's address and all three of their phone numbers.

"I'll tell him. You be careful. I'm not sure what you did, but even from here I can tell something is off with you," she warned him.

There was something wrong but there was no way he was getting into time travel with her. He still wasn't sure she couldn't reach through the phone and smack him. 

"So now what?" Sam asked him.

"Normally I would say we do everything we can to make this place demon proof but for once, we want the bad guy to come and find us. We should all eat a little more and try to get some rest," Dean tried to sound mature enough to be taken seriously and not so much that Sam would question him. Food and a nap were always the best answer when the question was how to fill time. He knew they would have to be on top of their game tomorrow. 

Sam and Jessica both said goodnight before Sam threw an assortment of bedding at him. The couch was comfortable enough. He'd slept in worse places. There was no way he would've willingly left them alone tonight. He had no doubt Sammy could take care of them. There was a small part of him that was worried because he'd been out for so long. He'd snooped as best he could and was appalled by the lack of protection he found. He wanted to slap the recklessness out of him.

He couldn't believe he was back at Stanford dealing with Azazel again. That guy was worse than a fucking demonic game of whack a mole. Every time they thought he was gone for the good, he'd just popped back up.

He wondered what Jessica would choose to do this time around. That lead him to his other big question for the night, what was Sammy going to do? Catching Jessica's killer is what motivated him to become a hunter again. What if Sam decided he was going to take the apple pie life he'd always wanted?

He had to get up and do something before he went crazy alone in the dark. They had the Colt and he knew that it would do in Azazel. He was worried that the demon wouldn't be alone. He had a momentary fleeting thought about Meg showing up with him. When she was still the original flavor Meg, she still was trying to get Daddy's approval above all things. He preferred the second meat suit to the first. She was still a giant pain in his ass but she had been handy in her own way.

He pulled a few of his favorite things from the trunk to stash around the living room just in case they needed them. He was surprised to find the small wooden ornate box hidden among the weaponry. He wasn't sure how the bunker's key managed to follow him but he was glad it had. The last thing he wanted to do was drag Sam back there and break-in to the place. It might be funny to see what Jessica thought of how easy it would be for Sammy to do it. He doubted his brother had shown off his amazing B&E skills in front of her. 

He wasn't surprised to find them both awake when he slipped back through the front door.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked as he settled down back on the couch.

"How about breakfast?" Jessica asked from the kitchen.

"I was thinking about making a doughnut run or something, but home cooking is always better," Dean just hoped it wasn't all going to be ultra-healthy crap like Sam ate.

"How many times did we stop for doughnuts before the job? It was always a cool thing when Dad let us go by ourselves but there was something almost freeing about starting with a doughnut run," Sam placed a cup of coffee in front Dean as he sat next to him on the couch.

"You didn't get to do things like grabbing fast food on the way to kill a monster?" Jessica asked very matter of factly.

"Dad always hated to wait for anything; food, bathroom breaks, hell, anything that would slow you down was a no go in his book. There was always plenty of time to eat and take a leak when you were done. People were counting on us and we couldn't let them down because we wanted a snack," Dean explained.

"I see his point, but damn that is kind of harsh," she called back.

"Dean was better about that than I was. He used to stash snack cakes and granola bars in his jacket pockets for me," Sam said fondly.

"It saved me from listening to you whine every five minutes about how hungry you were," Dean snapped.

"That was still very sweet of you," Jessica told him as she handed him a plate piled high with pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

Dean took a large bite of perfectly cooked pancakes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten so well.

"Dude, you look like she gave you a plate of rainbows and, well, not puppies, I guess bacon. I bet there is more in the kitchen," Sam laughed.

"You eat like this all the time? You're a very, lucky guy Sammy," Dean said around a mouthful of bacon.

"Why do you insist on calling me, Sammy? Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old. Do I look like a chubby twelve-year-old?" Sam was not amused.

"Was he a chubby kid? I bet he was a cutie with his dimples. Too bad you don't have pictures of him. He doesn't have any family photos," Jessica said.

"He was something back then," Dean laughed and swiped the bacon from Sam's plate.

Dean was glad for the silence while they ate. He was having a hard time keeping up with all of the changes he was making to their new timeline. 

He nearly jumped off the couch when someone began to pound on the door as Sam was grabbing the emptied dishes to take to the kitchen.

"Do you think he'd knock?" Jessicas whispered.

"Demons aren't big on etiquette," Dean tried not to laugh at the thought as he got up to answer the door.

"Dad?" Dean was shocked to find him at the door.

"You've left me over fifty messages son, why wouldn't I be here?" John asked him as he pushed his way inside.

He stood there dumbstruck as Sam introduced their dad to Jessica.

"So why don't you fill me on everything you've found out about the demon?" John asked them.

"Where have you been? We've been calling every number we have for you. We thought about calling hunters we hadn't spoken to in years just to get the smallest piece of gossip," Sam said.

"I know I was out of touch for a few days. I had a lead that I thought would help us. Mine turned out to be crap. When I finally got your messages, I thought maybe you boys had done better," John explained.

"If you had reliable intel, why didn't you call us? Were you going to try to take him down on your own? I thought we all agreed that we would face the fucker head-on as a family?" Dean was pissed. After everything he'd done so they could take Azazel down, to be excluded from the kill was a slap in the face as far as he was concerned.

"I just wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting us into before I called you boys," John tried to explain.

"Both of us? You were going to call me as well?" Sam sounded skeptical. Dean couldn't blame him. He knew how big the grudge was their dad was still holding against him.

"Where did you get your info?" Dean asked hoping to get a little more information from him.

"The usual places. It was nothing special. What about you? What convinced you to come out here and see Sammy? I thought we were giving him his space?" John asked him.

"Did you have a long drive?" Dean asked, hoping to change the subject. He knew nothing good was going to come from this conversation. As hurt, as John was when Sammy left them. Sammy was just as angry. They had more important things to deal with then the fight he knew was coming.

"It was only a day's drive," John shrugged the question off.

"What happened in Jericho?" Jessica asked him as she placed a tray with a pitcher of iced tea and glasses on the coffee table. Dean briefly wondered when she left the room. He hated to think he was so distracted he never noticed she left.

"Please have a seat," She motioned towards the couch. She handed him a glass before asking him once more about Jericho.

"It was a dead-end," he cautiously took a drink. "Did you two make it out there to look for me?"

"No, we had to pick something up," Sam began to explain before Dean cut him off.

"Sammy, I doubt Dad wants to hear about our little trip," he had a bad feeling.

"I would love to know what happened. I am very interested to learn what happened to Dean," John said. 

"Nothing happened to me. You missed a couple of check-ins and that had me worried. You have to admit the message you sent was a little unsettling. I came here and talked Sammy into helping me look for you," Dean didn't like the warning bells that were going off in his head. 

"What are you talking about, Dad? Dean said he was on a solo hunt. You didn't say something had happened to you," Sam glared at Dean.

"I don't know what he's talking about," There was no way he was going to tell any of them anything about what had happened.

"I'm surprised you boys were able to put aside your differences," John told them.

"Why? We've fought before, but we always manage to patch things up when we had to," Dean reminded him.

"This isn't like any of those other times is it? Sammy, you didn't run away because you wanted to be better than us. You weren't jealous that Dean got the car and the better weapons. You didn't have a problem going on hunts with him and not me did you?" John asked.

"I told you the night I left that I wanted more from life. I wasn't going to spend my days hustling pool and my nights tracking down the current evil thing that needs to die only to be rewarded with a night in a sleazy motel or a flophouse," Sam was beginning to sound angry.

"You tell yourself that," John laughed without any hint of good feelings.

"Dad...," Dean cautiously asked.

"Dean, you're smarter than this," John said as his eyes flashed gold. "Did you think I wouldn't find out about your little meeting in the other place? It's all anyone downstairs can talk about."

Dean didn't know what to say. He didn't want to lie to Sam and Jessica, but there was no way he was going to tell any of them more than they already knew. They would just have to deal with what had happened after they dealt with the current problem.

"I'm sure it was interesting seeing all of the celestial beings damn nearly wet themselves over what had happened in the graveyard. No had heard from the Old Man himself for so long, some of us doubted he was even around. In all the years you've been at this, whose kind have you run into more often my kind or his? I would never be such a neglectful father."

"What is he talking about? What happened to you in a graveyard? What did he mean more of his kind than the old man's? Who is this old man and why the hell is he so special?" Sam asked Dean.

"Dean, are you keeping secrets from your baby brother? I guess that's only fair considering the monster-sized one he's been keeping from you," the thing with John's face smirked.

"What's he talking about?" Jessica asked as she moved closer to Sam.

"Yeah, Sam what am I talking about? Could I be talking about how your attempt to leave was one big test and nothing more? You know the only reason you left was so Dean would notice you were gone. You wanted him to notice what you brought to the table. There was no way he would be willing to do all the research on his own. How many nights did you fall asleep straining to hear the Impala's engine? You were sure he would never last this long. You had your future all planned out, really, is there such a big difference between sleeping in the same bed and being in his..."

"Shut up. You have no idea what you're talking about," Sam demanded.

"Son, I know exactly what I am talking about. I've known what makes you tick longer then you have." 

"I am not your son," Sam stared him down.

"Don't be a fool. You've always had more of my blood in you than you ever had of John's. That is how I know every one of your deepest, darkest secrets," the demon laughed.

"He's not your dad?" Jessica asked in a quiet voice.

"Good thing she's pretty. I think she might be a bit slow for a hunter or even a hunter's wife. That's okay. We all know who you love the most."

Dean was shocked when moments later, he saw John crumple to the floor and Sammy holding the colt.

"You shot him. How could you shoot him?" Jessica sounded like she was on the verge of hysterics.

"What did you think was going to happen?" Dean was confused. He thought the plan was to kill Azazel. What did she think, they would just let him go? He thought he was clear about how dangerous Azazel was.

"I don't know. He's your Dad," she said like that explained everything. Dean wondered if it did.

"Now what do we do?" she asked them.

"Hunter's funeral?" Sam asked Dean.

"A hunter's funeral was something I learned about after you bailed. It turns out that once a hunter's killed they become a target for any demon that is looking for a new meat suit. Hunter bodies are prime real estate. The only way to stop that from happening is to salt and burn the body." Dean explained.

Dean was listening to see if he could hear any of the neighbors freaking out. You could never tell who would or wouldn't over a single gunshot.

They worked quickly in tandem getting John ready and into the trunk. Dean felt bad about shoving him in there and had to remind himself it was for the best. He slid behind the wheel and waited for Sam. He figured whatever he was telling Jessica, he didn't need an audience. 

Before he had a chance to work himself up to a full panic, Sam slipped back into the car.

"She's not coming?" Dean asked.

"She's freaking out," Sam explained.

"Did you want to stay with her? Maybe you could help her understand what happened? Give her a better explanation of hunting and all that crap," Dean suggested.

"She made it clear she needs a little time to herself before she wants to see my face again," Sam confided in him.

"Dude, that's harsh." 

Sam gave him directions to an out of the way place that wasn't too far from his apartment. Dean was impressed when he saw it. 

"What made you find this place?" Dean asked him as they prepared John's body.

"So get this, when I first came out here, I was anti-hunting like you wouldn't believe. I avoided all things that could lead me back down that path. I boycotted all forms of local news and just ignored the national stuff. One day, I overheard a couple of people talking about 'weird freaky shit going on in the cemetery.' I had to check it out. It was a lone ghoul and I dealt with it, but it reminded me that hunting didn't totally suck," Sam explained as he sat next to Dean.

"Are you serious?" Dean asked him.

"No, you Jerk. Jess and I used to have picnics here," Sam made a face at him and sat down close to the fire.

Dean was reminded once more about how different Sam's life had been. He realized they never really talked about the years Sam spent away at college. Sam never wanted to talk and he didn't want to push. He sat next to Sam and watched as the flames overtook John's body. He was sorry that it had come to this. It would've been nice to take him to the bunker and show him everything his own father had been working to save. 

Dean hated that John died never knowing that Henry hadn't abandoned him by choice. He wished they could've all gone back to the bunker.

"What are your plans after this?" Sam quietly asked him.

"I'm planning on a long shower a longer nap after I find the biggest burger in town," Dean wasn't sure how to bring up the bunker without sounding like a crazy cult member. He still wasn't sure how to bring up any of it. How do you make batshit crazy not sound crazy?

"I can second the nap and shower. I forgot how much work it was dealing with salt and burn," Sam sounded off to Dean's ear, but he just chalked it up to everything that happened. He was sure it would all hit Sam later like a ton of bricks. He remembered how bad it tore him up when John sold his own soul in the hospital. The morning talk shows said he had a weird kind of survivor's guilt. He couldn't really argue the point. How were you supposed to act when you find out your own father sold his soul to keep you alive? It would've been one thing if he'd sold it to a random crossroad demon and got the standard ten years. Instead, He sold it to his archnemesis, the demon they'd been hunting since it killed Mom. It got the last laugh; it made sure Sammy died and Dean had little choice but to follow in their dad's footprints.

"You okay?" Sam nudged him with his shoulder.

"Dude, I think I'm in shock," Dean mumbled. He had to keep reminding himself that at this age he would not have accepted John's death so easily.

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled even softer than before.

"I know you would've done something else, if you could've. You have to admit that was a screwball act it pulled back there," Dean laughed at the absurdity. He knew the minute they had time to sit and catch their breath he was going to come clean about everything.

"I'm not sure what he was trying to get at about my relationship with Jess," Sam couldn't look him in the eye.

Dean had an idea about that, but he didn't want to try to bring it up now. The last thing he wanted was to cause more trouble between Sam and Jessica.

Dean was grateful to see the front door once more. He couldn't remember the last time he was this tired.

"What's going on?" he heard Sam ask as he stepped into the living room.

"You smell like smoke. You really did it? You were able to burn your father's body?" Jessica asked him.

"Well, yeah, we had to so nothing could use his body. Whenever anyone is possessed, you have to salt and burn them," Sam said as he wandered around the room.

"I just can't deal with this," she told him.

"Deal with what? How are you surprised we've been talking about hunting since Dean broke in the other night," Sam sounded confused.

"I know and when we were talking it wasn't real. You shot your own father in the head. That was real. I'm not cut out for that kind of life. If I'm being honest, I don't think I want it. That is not what we had planned. I want law school and a nice life. I'm sorry, Sam, but I just can't do it. You know I will never tell anyone what happened here today, but I cannot be a part of something like that again," she shoved a box at him before walking off towards the bedroom.

Dean couldn't believe what'd happened. He was sure that Jessica would be moving into the bunker with them. He was happy that he'd managed to fix Sam's love life.

"Dude, I'm sorry," he awkwardly told Sam, "I'm guessing the bags by the door are yours too?" Dean couldn't believe they both walked by them without noticing. To be fair they weren't that big. He hoped Sammy's life would fit more than a bunch of trash bags.

They stashed the bags in the backseat before settling into the front seat.

"Shit, where'd you stash the Colt?" Dean had forgotten all about having to return it to Elkins. The last thing they needed was him tracking them down. He was trying to fix their past not fuck up their future. Dealing with a pissed off Elkins didn't sound like a good way to start their new life.

"I guess we should call him. Do you want me to do it?" Sam asked.

"I'm surprised he isn't calling us. Yeah one of us should. Do you mind?" Dean really didn't want to do it.

"I'll do it when we stop," Sam told him.

It wasn't long before a sign for an undeniably cheesy motel popped up. "We might as well grab a room," Dean mumbled as he pulled into the parking lot.

"Didn't we stay in a place like this when we were little?" he asked as they walked into the front lobby.

"I think we've stayed in every kind of offbeat motel there is," Sam rolled his eyes at the comment.

"I read there are a few made of ice. Seriously how does that work? There is no way I am staying in a room made out of ice," Dean shook his head at the thought.

"You can always stay in an underwater hotel in Florida," the woman behind the counter smiled at Dean.

"Maybe we should add it to the list, huh?" he bumped his shoulder into Sam's.

"Oh, you two are together?" she asked as Dean handed her one of his credit cards.

"Huh?" Dean wondered why it mattered.

"A king for the night or the weekend?" She asked.

"Just the night, we're in kind of a hurry to get home," Dean smiled at her.

She handed over the key and his credit card before turning around and walking towards a back room.

"That wasn't awkward at all," Sam rolled his eyes as they walked back to the car.

"Huh?" Dean asked he drove around to the back of the motel. They stayed in enough motels in their lives that he always had an idea where they would find their room.

"The girl was hitting on you until you let her think we were together," Sam explained before walking towards the door.

Dean had forgotten how many times people had assumed they were a couple over the years. It had bothered him at first only because he thought they had all realized they were brothers and judged them accordingly.

"Did you want to grab a shower or order food first?" Dean asked him.

"I need to sort through the bags Jess packed for me before I take a shower," Sam explained as he walked back to the door.

Dean didn't need to be offered the shower twice. He quickly grabbed a pair of boxers and his shaving kit and headed to the bathroom before Sam could change his mind.

The hot water was almost hot. Luckily, the water pressure was better. He missed the showers back at the bunker. He missed his memory foam mattress. Most of all, he missed Sam. Sure, he had a Sam with him, but was he really his Sam?

He almost joked with him about their 'antiquing weekends' before he remembered this Sam hadn't experienced that yet. He decided he stalled long enough and dried off and pulled his boxers on.

"Sammy," he was going to ask him what he wanted to do about food. Instead, he walked out to find Sam waiting for him with his gun in his lap. He rushed to Sam's side. 

"I know things are messed up now, but they won't be forever. Things will get better," Dean tried to keep his voice steady as he tried to pry the gun out of his hands.

"You think I'm going to kill myself? That's a laugh. I don't know who or what you are, but I have no plans on ending my life," Sam looked him in the eyes refusing to let go of the gun.

"What do you mean who or what I am?" Things were not going as Dean had planned.

"The Dean I know, my brother Dean, would not be so calm about the death of our dad. There is no way he would've let me shoot him in his goddamn face and not have at least given me a serious beat down. That means that you are either something that can mimic Dean or you are Dean and you're possessed." Sam raised his gun.

"Woah, okay you're not wrong, but you're not right either," Dean tried to stall.

"That makes so much sense," Sam snapped at him.

"I wanted to tell you what happened, but I couldn't figure out how to make it not sound crazy. I lived it and I know it sounds crazy. I don't know where to even start," Dean told him.

"I suggest you figure it out and do it fast," Sam glared at him.

"Time travel..." Dean blurted out.

"Now, you're just being an ass," Sam did not sound amused.

"Wait, I can prove it," Dean turned towards the door.

"How?" Sam asked.

"There's a bag in the trunk. It's actually an old backpack. It's black and kind of ratty looking," Dean explained as he tried to get back where he'd left his jeans.

"Keys," Sam demanded.

"I'm going to grab the bag. If you try anything you'll regret it," he warned Dean after he grabbed the keys from him.  
There was little doubt in Dean's mind that Sam meant every word of his threat. He knew better than most people how dangerous a pissed of Sam was.

" _Supernatural?_ " Sam asked a moment later after dumping the contents of the bag on the bed.

"Yep, the thrilling adventures of Sam and Dean," Dean tried not to smirk.

"Who is Chuck Shurley and why do you think his books will prove your point?" Sam plucked one up by the corner as if it were diseased.

"Spoilers..." Dean replied out of habit. The look Sam gave him made it clear he was not in on the joke.

"How about I order us a couple of pizzas while you read through the books?" Dean hoped Sam would agree. He was hungry and thought the pizza would be a good distraction for him.

"Fine, whatever. If you're full of crap and this is a giant stall, I am going to kick your ass," Sam promised as he sat on the bed closest to the bathroom. He placed the gun under his knee and opened the first book.

Dean watched Sam until he was sure he was engrossed in the book before he called the number on the pizza flyer by the phone. He gave the girl that answered the phone the motel name and room number and quickly agreed to whatever special she was pushing that night.

"She died like Mom? This is how you knew Jess was in trouble? You based everything off of a cheap crappy novel?" Sam glared at him.

"No, I knew because I was there. I pulled you out of the building. It was one of the scariest things I have ever done. It reminded me of when Mom died and Dad handed you to me and just said 'run, Dean'," he still hated to think about either one of those days.

"I still can’t believe you did that,” Sam mumbled.

"There was a fire and Dad said to take you and run. That meant something really bad was about happening. I had to save you. So I took you and ran as fast and carefully as I could," Dean was glad when a moment later there was a knock at the door and a girl holding a couple of pizzas as well as a couple of bags. Dean handed her a handful of bills and quickly shut the door.

"So, that's why the rush to get the Colt? What about the woman in white? Are we just going to let her keep killing?" Sam asked him.

"I guess we'll have to call someone to take care of it. There's no way I am driving back to Jericho," Dean was too busy laying out the food on his bed to worry about anything else. He checked both boxes and placed the one that was just cheese closer to Sam. He knew Sam would be engrossed in the books and wouldn't even know what he was eating. That was fine with Dean. It just meant more supreme pizza and wings for him.

"We got Dad's journal in that case?" Sam asked him.

"I'm almost positive that it will be waiting for us at home," Dean said through a mouthful of pizza.

"We have a home?" Sam closed the book.

"Yeah, I was going to tell you about when you were further along in the books."

"You mean it? Do we have a house? A real house that isn't a squatters crash pad?" Sam sounded hopeful.

"It's really nice, yeah, but it's not traditional," Dean admitted.

"What does that mean? Is it more of a condo? Don't tell me we live in an R.V.?" Sam reached for the pizza box.

"We have a real house," Dean assured him as he tossed what was left of the food on to Sam's bed.

"I am going to take a nap. I can trust you not to shoot me in my sleep, right?" Dean was only half-joking. He waited a moment to see if there was a smartass comeback from Sam. When he was sure Sam was settled with his pile of books, he allowed himself to finally sleep.

"You bastard," was all the warning he got before he woke up to Sam straddling his lap as he pinned Dean's shoulders to the bed.

It took all of Dean's self-control to not buck Sam off of him. "What happened?" he asked instead.

"Your fucking soul? How could you sell your goddamn soul? Are you really that stupid?" Sam was seething.

"Dude, I am not awake enough to talk about this," Dean tried to avoid the conversation.

"From what I read, you didn't talk to anyone about it," Sam stared at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, Dean! Be honest, my body wasn't even cold and you were out there making a fucking deal,"

"You're mad I didn't sit by your graveside for the appropriate amount of time? Tell me, Sammy, how long is that? Should I have waited until you were bloated and started to rot? Should I have waited until Bobby was ready to put you on a fucking hunter's pyre? I have to say, of all the things you could criticize me about, the fact that I rushed to make a deal seems like a weak argument," Dean argued as he managed to manhandle Sam onto the bed. he pulled him tight to his chest like he used when Sammy would have a nightmare.

"What really has you upset? You know I did it but I survived. It makes me think there's something else going on in that egghead brain of yours?" Dean tried to comfort him the same way he used to.

"Why?" Sam asked so softly that if Dean hadn't been so close he would've missed it.

"Why what?" Dean asked him.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Don't be dumb, Sammy."

"We were separated for a while after you let me leave for Stanford. It's not like we'd been back together for years when I...died," he whispered the last word.

"Go to sleep," Dean told him and held him tighter.

He woke before dawn when Sam came banging into the room with a bag and tray of to-go cups. He hoped that two of the cups were coffee for him. He had a feeling Sam was going to be full of more questions than he wanted to deal with.

"I have coffee and doughnuts," Sam waved the bag in front of Dean's face.

Dean inhaled two doughnuts and half of a coffee before Sam asked the most important question of the day, "So what's the plan?"

"Plan? The plan for what?" Dean asked around a mouthful of raspberry filling.

"Dean, really? What's the plan for us?" 

"Oh... I thought we could go check out the...our home base," Dean didn't want to have the 'yes, we have a bunker and no, it's not as creepy as it sounds’ talk.

"I was thinking of a nice drive home, then we get you settled in. After that, we go see Bobby. While we're there we need to convince Sheriff Mills that Bobby is not the town drunk and monsters are real," Dean downed the rest of his coffee.

"Really, a sheriff? We've been working with her?" Sam sounded suspicious.

"That reminds me, we also need to go see Ellen and Jo. We won't be able to make amends for what Dad did, but at least this time around, we will know why they are pissy about him." Dean was quickly trying to prioritize the meet and greet list in his head.

"What's Dad do to them?" Sam sat next to him on the bed.

"Ellen's husband Bill was on a hunt with him and Dad came home and Bill didn't," He simplified the mess for Sam.

"That sucks, but it happens. I am shocked that it happened with Dad. He was always so cautious when we were on a hunt."

"I don't know all the details. Most of what I got was second hand from a demon," Dean admitted. He briefly spared a thought for Meg. She had started off as one of the biggest pains in his ass but by the end, he'd almost gotten used to her.

"Who else do we need to see right away? Do you have a list? Are they in the other books?" Sam asked him.

"I'm sure they are all in the books or the later stories that could only be found online. I'm not sure if those will still be online. I won't be shocked to find a copy of all of the official stories somewhere in our place." He still wasn't sure what had sent him back, but he was beginning to think they were more powerful than Chuck, and maybe even Death.

"Death, crap, I hope he doesn't remember our last meeting. I wonder what Billie's doing in this new timeline?" Dean hoped Death didn't remember Dean turning on him. If he were honest, he wasn't too torn up about Billie forgetting about them. She's always had it in for them.

"We tangled with Death? The real Death? There really is a Death and we hunted it? How did we not die?"

"That is a story for another time. Trust me, if I tell you it to now, you will just be more confused." Dean stood up to grab his bags and waited for Sam to follow him. He was in a rush to get home and reintroduce Sam to their life.

"I wonder if Bobby built the panic room yet?" Dean wondered aloud as he tossed the bags in the trunk.

"Why do we need a panic room?" Sam asked him with the same serious tone he used to when he was little and was convinced Dean had all the answers.

"Where else are we going to summon the King of the Crossroads to meet us?" Dean grinned. It would be nice to finally have the upper hand with Crowley.

"Why would we want to do that?"

"Trust me, we want him on the throne of Hell. He is a smarmy bastard but he, and if you ever repeat this, I'll deny it and kick your ass for good measure, he is the best of them and has a weird not so moral code we can almost deal with," Dean explained as he started Baby and pulled back out onto the highway.

"I see why a panic room could be useful. Do we really trust him?"

"Hell, no, that's why we need to find Rowena as well," Dean told him.

"Is that another demon?" Sam asked wide-eyed.

"No, she’s our insurance policy," Dean said.

"So someone he cares about," Sam nodded as if that made sense.

"Nope, just the opposite. She is a powerful witch and his dear old Mum. She gets under his skin better than anyone."

"There is so much to learn about our lives," Sam mumbled.

We have hours to fill. Why don't I tell you about what life was like before the big reboot? We can spitball ideas about to fix and what we should leave the hell alone," Dean suggested. he was happy to see Sam nod his head and turn to look at him.

It may not be the future he thought they would have but he was grateful they would have one at all. He knew that between the two of them they would fix everything that needed fixing. The future was there and they were going to make the most of it. 

This time they would get it right.


End file.
